When we break apart again, I’m breathless, shaky, and feel like I’ve come undone at the seams. “I should stop,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move, he doesn’t even flinch. “Do you want to?”
I hesitate. “No.”
He nods like he expected that, like maybe he didn’t quite expect me to say it out loud. “Then don’t.”
It’s not a command. It’s not even a suggestion. It’s an offering.
I slide my hands up his chest, over his collarbones, and into the curve of his neck. I feel the tension there, the wayhe’s wound tight like a spring, holding himself together for my sake.
“You can stay,” I say, so quietly I’m not sure I’ve actually said it.
He freezes. Then almost whispers my name, “Mia.”
I swallow. “Nothing has to happen. I just…” I cut myself off and sigh. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
He leans in, presses his lips to my forehead, and it’s somehow more intimate than the kiss we shared. “Okay.”
I grab his hand and lead him through to the lounge. The flat feels too small suddenly, like the air can’t quite hold us both. I drop onto the sofa and he sits beside me, close but not touching, like he’s waiting for me to make the next move.
So I do.
I curl into his side and rest my head on his shoulder. His arm slips around me instinctively, and we sit like that, silent and barely breathing. And full of too many things we can’t name yet.
“Do you always carry that much weight?” I ask after a moment, my voice quiet against the fabric of his shirt.
“What weight?”
I lift my head and meet his gaze. “The stuff about your dad. About proving yourself.”
He exhales slowly. “Most days, yeah.”
I reach for his hand and link our fingers together. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
He looks down at our joined hands like they’re something precious. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
The next silence isn’t heavy, it’s soft and feels safe. There’s something about the way his thumb moves over mine that makes my heart beat a funny rhythm. After a while, I yawn and shift closer. He chuckles under his breath. “You falling asleep on me already?”
I smile into his chest. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours.”
“Get some rest, then. I’ll be here.”
“You sure?”
He kisses the top of my head. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
I don’t know what this is yet. Or what happens tomorrow. But right now, I know this; Dylan Winters is here. Warm and solid and holding me like I matter.
And that’s enough for now.
CHAPTER THIRTY
DYLAN
The sun’s barely up, and I’m already wide awake.
After she fell asleep on me on the sofa, I ended up carrying her to bed. I was going to leave then, but she insisted she needed me to stay. I’m not used to this. Waking up with someone next to me. Waking up and not wanting to leave. Despite my reputation, I never spend the whole night with girls I’ve hooked up with in the past, and I never take them to my place.
